Chapter 6 - THE NIGHT THEIR FATHER DIED
Isabella Moretti was sitting alone at the dining table when Alessandro returned.
Two plates were set.
Just as they had been every Sunday when he was a child.
“You arrested your brother,” she said.
“He confessed.”
“He was frightened.”
“He killed Miguel Delgado.”
“He made a mistake.”
“A man died.”
Isabella looked down.
Alessandro sat opposite her.
“How did Dad die?”
Her fingers stopped moving.
“Heart attack.”
“Why wasn’t there an autopsy?”
“His doctor saw no reason.”
“Matteo says otherwise.”
Isabella laughed softly.
“Matteo would say anything now.”
“Then look at me and tell me.”
She did.
“Your father died of a heart attack.”
Alessandro placed an old medical report on the table.
Marco had obtained it that morning.
Vittorio had been examined privately hours before his death.
His heart had been healthy.
Isabella stared at the document.
“Where did you get this?”
“Does it matter?”
She stood.
The performance was over.
“Your father was a monster.”
Alessandro remained seated.
“That isn’t an answer.”
“He hurt people.”
“I know.”
“He hurt me.”
That stopped him.
Isabella’s voice changed.
“For thirty-two years I lived beside a man who controlled every dollar, every friendship, every decision.”
Alessandro had never heard this story.
“He hit Matteo.”
Alessandro’s eyes lifted.
“What?”
“When you were away at college.”
“Why didn’t anyone tell me?”
“Because Matteo begged me not to.”
Isabella sat again.
“Your father planned to send him overseas. He said Matteo was weak.”
Alessandro remembered his brother at nineteen.
Quiet.
Nervous.
Always desperate for their father’s approval.
“What happened the night Dad died?”
Isabella stared at her hands.
“He was drinking.”
She had placed medication in Vittorio’s whiskey.
Not poison.
Sedatives.
She intended to make him sleep long enough to take Matteo and leave.
But Vittorio had also taken heart medication.
The combination triggered cardiac arrest.
“You killed him.”
“I tried to escape him.”
“Then you covered it up.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because I had two sons.”
Alessandro shook his head.
“You keep using motherhood as permission.”
The words struck her.
“You have no idea what I sacrificed.”
“And Sophia?”
Isabella said nothing.
“What did she sacrifice?”
Silence.
“Her husband?”
Nothing.
“Her financial independence?”
Nothing.
“Her daughter’s childhood?”
Isabella’s eyes filled with tears.
“You think I wanted any of this?”
“At some point, what you wanted stopped mattering.”
Alessandro stood.
“You had years to stop.”
“I couldn’t.”
“You wouldn’t.”
He walked away.
“Where are you going?”
“To dismantle everything.”
The following week became a public explosion.
Federal investigators raided Moretti offices.
News networks surrounded the mansion.
Former employees came forward.
Twenty-three people reported wage theft.
Nine families questioned suspicious deaths.
Moretti stock collapsed.
Alessandro voluntarily surrendered financial records.
His attorneys begged him to stop cooperating.
He refused.
Sophia watched the coverage from her hospital room.
Emma sat beside her coloring.
When Alessandro visited, Sophia muted the television.
“You’re losing everything.”
“Not everything.”
“You could fight this.”
“I am.”
“Against your own family.”
Alessandro looked at Emma.
“Some things are more important.”
Sophia studied him.
“You didn’t create what your father did.”
“No.”
“But I lived comfortably because of it.”
“That doesn’t make you responsible for every crime.”
“It makes me responsible for what I do after learning the truth.”
Sophia looked away.
She was recovering quickly.
The pneumonia was responding to treatment.
But another wound had reopened.
Miguel.
Alessandro handed her a flash drive.
“What is this?”
“Your husband’s recording.”
Sophia’s hand began trembling.
“He made a video.”
Tears appeared instantly.
“I haven’t heard his voice in seven years.”
“I thought you should decide when to watch it.”
She held the drive against her chest.
“Thank you.”
Emma looked up from her coloring book.
“Mr. Moretti?”
“Yes?”
“Are you still Mom’s boss?”
Sophia almost laughed.
Alessandro smiled.
“Technically.”
“Good.”
“Why?”
“Because the old boss was mean.”
Sophia’s smile disappeared.
“What old boss?”
Emma shrugged.
“The lady.”
Alessandro frowned.
“What lady?”
“The one who came to our apartment.”
Sophia turned pale.
“What are you talking about?”
Emma continued coloring.
“The grandma lady.”
Alessandro exchanged a look with Sophia.
“When?”
“A long time ago.”
“How long?”
Emma thought.
“Before kindergarten.”
Isabella.
Sophia whispered:
“She never came to my apartment.”
Emma shook her head.
“Yes, she did.”
“What happened?”
“She talked to Daddy’s picture.”
The room went silent.
Sophia slowly stood.
“What did she say?”
Emma frowned, trying to remember.
“She said…”
Then her eyes brightened.
“I remember.”
She imitated Isabella’s voice.
“I’m sorry, Miguel. It should have been Alessandro.”
Alessandro stopped breathing.
Sophia stared at him.
“What does that mean?”
He didn’t know.
May you like
But suddenly Miguel’s death had another possible explanation.
And the most horrifying secret in the Moretti family might not have been about money at all.
